Colour neo-traditional tattoo of a hairless cat in a green knitted beanie holding a teal yarn ball, with black script reading Trouble below, on a thigh.

Sphynx cat in a beanie with Trouble script

Neo-trad · Thigh · Colour · Photo

A hairless cat wearing a green knitted beanie sits at the centre, holding a teal yarn ball with strands of teal yarn trailing from its paws. The cat has yellow-green eyes and red-pink paws and nose, drawn with bold black outlines and soft shading across its grey body. Black script lettering reading Trouble sits beneath the cat, and the tattoo is shown on a leg with a hand holding it at the left edge.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The teal wool was meant for a cardigan, but by the Thursday it had been dragged under the dresser, across two rugs and up the back of the settee, and Mrs Hetty Brannigan was on her knees with her spectacles steamed up, following the thread like a trail of breadcrumbs. At the end of it sat Trouble, bald as a boiled egg and entirely unrepentant, pinning the ball with one pink paw as if it had been his all along.

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She had taken him in from the bins behind the Co-op the winter before. Nobody had wanted a cat with no fur, and nobody, he seemed to think, had any right to be cold in his own house. He spent his afternoons on the radiator, shivering in the draught from the sash window, and every evening Hetty watched him and muttered that a grown animal ought to have the sense to wear a jumper.

So she made him a hat. It took three evenings and a great deal of swearing, and the moment she tugged the green ribbed beanie down over his ears he went very still, looked at her with those yellow-green eyes, and walked straight to the window, where he sat up like a bookend and refused to move. Trouble had never once in his life sat anywhere he could not be seen.

Hetty cast off the last stitch on Sunday and found the cardigan unpicked to half its length, the wool coiled neatly on the sill in a loose teal nest. Next door, Mr Okafor's new bird feeder had been emptied overnight. She let the cat keep the yarn. Some mischief, she decided, was worth a winter's warmth, and she had never yet been able to stay cross with a creature that looked so pleased with its own hat.

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